


You’re Really Strange Sometimes

by BloodFrost



Category: Naruto, Sasodei - Fandom
Genre: Akatsuki - Freeform, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Male Character, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Love, M/M, One True Pairing, Romantic Fluff, SasoDei - Freeform, Short & Sweet, naruto - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodFrost/pseuds/BloodFrost
Summary: Master Sasori returns from a long mission, eager for food, and warmth ...... and the company of a certain blonde somebody.





	You’re Really Strange Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to be a short story, some out of character stuff (mainly Sasori not being a full puppet, meaning he still has physical needs like eating and sleeping). Might return to this later to do relationships or friendships between other members of the Akatsuki.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Past the dying oak, follow the path winding up the brook, two turns left, one right, keep in the shadow of the trees.”

It was this that Sasori, the human puppet and member of the notorious Akatsuki, chanted lowly to himself as he trudged along, tired and hungry, coming back from his latest mission.

Normally Pain, the leader, sent them out in groups of 2 or 3, but Sasori had been chosen to go on this latest one alone. The job was to infiltrate a village that was made up predominantly by various summoning animals, gather intel about their ‘masters’ that only the animals would be privy to, and bring that intelligence back to base. Pain thought that this could help them get the edge on their opponents in the future.

Sasori had equipped himself with several of his puppet disguises for this mission, among them a body that looked like a dog. After gaining as much intel as he could (which took about two weeks time), he abandoned the dog costume and took off, leaving a baffled set of animals behind him.

The closer he got to home, the hungrier he felt. He often felt it had been a mistake, to leave so much of his human self intact. If he had done a full body modification like he’d wanted to, all of his organs would have been replaced save for his heart, and he would no longer be subject to human needs and desires, such as hunger, or sleepiness, or —

_Still, Sasori ... there’s one desire you can’t afford to lose. Not now. Not ever._

The dwelling he was walking towards was hidden away quite well, deep in a seemingly endless expanse of rugged forest.

The group had set up several traps in the area surrounding the residence, and proximity alarms at every turn. The area was rich with a variety of animals and fruit-bearing trees, perfect for hunting and gathering; and about once a month, two members would take some money from the treasury, and travel miles to the nearest market, utilizing a transformation jutsu to disguise themselves and buy fresh foods and supplies to last for a few weeks’ time.

Behind him he was dragging 2 corpses tethered together by a rope, of an older and younger man, respectively. He had found these two camping alone on the last night of his journey, and knew immediately that he had to have then. Sasori found their features to be pleasing, and believed that their bodies, once hollowed, would make excellent editions to his puppet collection. He left them in a square of trampled grass that he had used many times before, protected by an invisible chakra ring, for storing bodies.

He did this for two reasons: one, the others in the house had complained about the stench of dead bodies, and he and Hidan (Hidan being the only other one who brought his victims home with him, although he used his dead ones for his gruesome ‘prayer ceremonies) had been told by Pain to carry on their ‘hobbies’ _outside_ of the house.

The other reason was that a certain somebody had voiced their opinion about being ‘creeped out’ by the lifeless, staring faces that had once adorned Sasori’s bedroom.

So he dragged the bodies into the circle, telling himself that he would come back later for them. He also left behind Hiroku, the armored puppet body that Sasori travelled in. His reason for doing this was once again that certain somebody, who expressed that they preferred to see Sasori in his ‘true form’ rather than the monstrosities he used as shields.

Not that Sasori necessarily liked himself in his own body. Red hair, deep brown eyes, and a great deal of his body replaced with the very wood that he sculpted his victims into.

_Well I think you’re fucking gorgeous, babe,_ a phantom voice echoed in Sasori’s mind, causing him to smile.

Finally, he came to the last bend in the path, and found himself facing the small house that they had been using as a hide-out for almost half a year.

Clouds had gathered rapidly during the last hour of Sasori’s journey, and distant rumblings of thunder promised a wet evening ahead. Yet the faint glow of the lights coming from the windows offered warmth and comfort.

He walked in, finding an empty hallway. Nothing unusual about that; most of the Akatsuki members, when home, preferred to spend their time in their rooms.

But there was one person Sasori just had to see.

He was sitting outside, in the tiny space that passed for a yard. In front of him was a small portable table, on which sat several lumps of clay, in various shapes.

As Sasori watched, he picked up what appeared to be a little sculpted bird, studying it carefully. He raised one finger, and the bird began flying around the air. He waited until the creature was a bit further away, raised two fingers ... and promptly exploded the piece of art.

“Art.”

Sasori didn’t think that he would ever understand what Deidara considered to be art. Deidara had explained multiple times, his philosophy that things were only beautiful because they existed for so brief a time. Sasori believed that art was something eternal, that lasted for countless lifetimes.

But maybe Deidara was right, in a way. Did Sasori only find Deidara to be beautiful, because somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that being in the Akatsuki likely meant a shortened life span for him (and for all of them)?

A lot to think about.

Sasori was about to make his way out there, when Pain, their leader, stepped into the hall.

“Ah, Master Sasori; you have returned.”

Sasori nodded. He began to speak to Pain about his mission, and what he had managed to accomplish. The entire time, however, one eye was still focused on where Deidara sat.

It was scary, in a way, how obsessed Sasori found himself with the blonde-haired man. Scary and confusing; because by every stretch of the imagination, Sasori and Deidara were wrong for each other. Sasori was wisened where Deidara was immature. Sasori was calm where Deidara had a temper. Sasori was nearly 15 years older, and Deidara had an exuberant energy that Sasori sometimes found hard to keep up with.

But.  
_But._

Sasori was head over heels for that guy. And he thought, he hoped, that Deidara felt the same about him.

As he stood there giving information to Pain, other members of the Akatsuki began leaving their rooms, some stopping to listen to Sasori, others heading into the dining room, where dinner was about to be served.

It was rare that the entire group was together at the same time, but no matter who was home, one rule that Pain always had was that they share at least one meal a day with one another, and that meal was typically dinner. Pain explained that sharing meals was supposed to foster a sense of bonding, and that was something that was severely lacking, a lot of the time, with the group.

By unspoken consent, most of the time it would be Konan who cooked. And she was quite good at it; most of her dishes were delicious.

And even if her food hadn’t been very good, none of them would have said anything about it.

Nearly every single member of the group came from troublesome, broken up, or non-existent homes. The idea of family was a hard one for many to swallow, yet at the same time, on a subconscious level, all of them had come to regard the Akatsuki as a sort of family. And Konan, whether she wanted it or not, had become something of a mother figure in the majority of their eyes.

Tonight, she had outdone herself, as a way of showing her excitement that absolutely everybody was at home, for once.

Roasted beef with broccoli and curry rice, sweet potato pancakes, spiced corn, dumplings, and a variety of other little things. She had even made a “special stew” for Zetsu; although the ingredients of which (and how she managed to get them) were things that nobody was eager to question.

Once the meal got underway, everybody began talking quietly to one another while they ate.

Or, it started off quietly, anyway.

“Konan, this is so good that I may need you to let my pants out for me later,” Kisame said with a grin.

“I could easily do that with my scythe,” Hidan offered from beside him, pouring himself a glass of water. “A few little nicks and they’d loosen right up.”

“No, thanks. You’d probably take my throat out too and unlike some people, I’m not immortal.”

“Kisame’s right, this is amazing, my dear,” Pain said, smiling at Konan. “Beauty, brains, and culinary prowess; such a catch.”

Konan smiled and blushed. “Thank you, Pain. I’m glad you like it; I was afraid I’d overcooked the rice a bit.”

“You didn’t. It’s perfect.”

“Perfect! Tobi like this! Tobi want more!”, Tobi exclaimed, reaching across the table. Kakuzu, however, reached out and slapped his hand down.

“Finish what’s on your plate first, you idiot,” he growled at him, shaking his head. “You do this every time; you keep piling things up, and by the end of the meal, you’re throwing away half a plate of food. Do you have any idea how much beef costs these days? Stop wasting things.”

“Leave him alone, Kakuzu,” Zetsu intoned from across the table. “It’s because of Tobi’s intel on the Kurrasent bounty that we were able to afford this at all.”

“See?”, Tobi said, sounding gleefully smug as he reached for the meat dish once more. “Tobi is a good boy.”

Kakuzu just rolled his eyes. “Fine. Keep throwing money down the drain. You’re almost as bad as this one,” he said, jerking his thumb in Itachi’s direction, “Feeding such good food to a wild animal.”

Everyone turned to look at Itachi. Itachi was a quiet one, sober and serious no matter the situation. It was rare for him to leave his room for meals at all, even rarer for him to speak during one. Recently, he had found a stray gray cat during a mission, and had brought it home with him. It was sitting on the armrest of his chair at the table now, and Itachi was slowly cutting up bits of his meat and gently feeding them to it.

Truthfully, the majority of the Akatsuki was thankful that he’d actually brought a _cat_, and not some other wild beast. It wouldn’t have been difficult for that to happen ... recently, Itachi’s eyesight had begun to deteriorate, at an alarmingly fast rate. Sasori, who was good friends with him, had spoken to him about it a little, and had learned that poor vision was the result of overusing ones Sharingan. And with the amount of battles they had been in, Itachi’s gift had been in almost constant use.

From beside him, Hidan sneezed into the crook of his elbow, loudly and exaggeratedly. Sasori could feel that he was in the mood to start something; he was already cranky because nobody had wanted to join him in a prayer to thank Jashin for the meal.

“Fuck, Uchiha; get rid of that stupid thing, will you?!”, Hidan shouted, using the sleeve of his robe to wipe his streaming eyes. “It’s making my damn allergies go crazy!”

Itachi didn’t move; he just continued to pet and feed the purring beast as though he hadn’t heard a word. Frustrated, Hidan turned to Pain, and said,

“Since when are members of a serious organization like this allowed to have _pets?_”

Pain sighed. “It brings Itachi comfort. If it bothers you, don’t go near it.”

“Itachi or the cat? Because both are shitty thorns in my ass.”

This time Itachi turned towards Hidan, and Hidan drew back a bit, upon realizing that Itachi’s eyes were glowing red.

“If you feel that annoyed, Hidan, go ahead and take the cat from my arms, and place it outside.”, Itachi said, in his deep, quiet voice.

Sasori felt that nearly everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen. Itachi was the most level-headed of the group, but when he became truly angered ...

Hidan, thankfully, decided to back down. He stood up from the table, pushing in his chair slowly.

“My thanks for the lovely meal, Konan,” he said, while keeping his gaze on Itachi. “But my appetite seems to have disappeared. If anybody needs me, I’ll be in my room.”

And with that, he was gone.

With the tension dissipated, the rest of the meal continued on as normal, with everybody again talking quietly amongst themselves.

But Sasori was nervous. This entire time, Deidara had not so much as made eye contact with him, or anyone else, for that matter. And, even more worrisome: he was QUIET. Ordinarily he’d be one of the most talkative ones at the table, but today, other than thanking Konan, he hadn’t said another word since. He was clearly upset about something, but as to what that something could be, Sasori hadn’t a clue.

After dinner, Sasori went to talk to Pain a bit more about his mission. Not because he needed or wanted to, but because doing so was a way to pass a bit of time, while he waited for Deidara. Tonight was Deidara’s turn to help Konan with the clearing of the table and washing the dishes, so Sasori had to patiently wait, for him to be finished.

Finally, the time came. Sasori walked slowly down the hall towards his room, and when Deidara finally appeared, he turned to face him.

But Deidara didn’t even lift his head as he walked.

Sasori reached out as Deidara was passing him, lightly grabbing his arm.

“Please,” he said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure the others weren’t around somewhere, “Come to my room for a few minutes?”

Deidara nodded, and followed Sasori to his room.

Once the door closed behind them, Sasori all but attacked Deidara, grabbing him up in both arms, squeezing him, kissing him.

But after a few moments, he noticed that Deidara wasn’t responding to him at all. Kissing him was like kissing a block of ice.

So Sasori released him, and went to sit on the edge of his bed.

“I’ve missed you so much, beloved. Come sit here with me.”

But Deidara shook his head, choosing instead to sit on one of Sasori’s chairs. “I’m fine right here. Now what do you want?”

“De-De, come on, sweetheart,” Sasori groaned, patting his knee. “I haven’t seen you in so long, and I missed you a ton. The least you can do for me is sit on my lap!”

“Sori ... are you an idiot? You just said it yourself; you’ve been on your mission forever. An entire two weeks, and I hadn’t heard a single word from you this entire time. For all I knew, you could have been seriously hurt, or worse: dead.”

“Wha—? You can’t possibly be mad at me about that? I couldn’t help it, De! I had no time to try and find a message outpost! You can understand that, can’t you?”

“No. What I _understand_, is that I’ve been sleepless these past few nights, worried sick over you. So I’m not sitting on your lap, you bastard. Now if you’ve said whatever it was you had to say to me, I’ll be going back to my own room. Goodnight.”

Sasori jumped up, preventing Deidara from leaving by grabbing his hand and pulling him back into his chair. Then he got on his knees in front of Deidara. He grabbed his hands again, holding them steadily as he laid his head in Deidara’s lap. It was funny; Sasori was in his 30’s, already, and Deidara was barely scratching at 20. Yet more often than not, Sasori found it that he was the one catering to Deidara, trying to earn his approval and trying to please him. Not that Deidara didn’t do the same for him, but still.

“I’m sorry. You’re right; you have every reason to be angry with me. I was gone for so long and I was careless and stupid enough to not realize you’d be worried about me, and that I should have tried to send you a message.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am. But _you’re_ an angel, and because of that, I just know you’ll forgive me.”

Deidara sighed; but couldn’t help grinning, just the tiniest bit. He pulled one of his hands out of Sasori’s and stroked the redhead’s hair with it, gently.

“I truly loathe you sometimes, you know that?”

“And it’s my honor, to be loathed by such a heavenly creature. You’re so beautiful,” Sasori said, kissing Deidara’s fingertips. “I still can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you mine.”

“I’m not so sure you’ll have that ‘privilege’ much longer, Sori. You’re not my only option, you know. Tobi’s been giving me the eye lately.”

Sasori burst into raucous laughter at that. “Tobi? That moron?? De-De ... the other day he couldn’t count to twenty without using all of his fingers and toes. I asked him if he knew what a tailed beast was and he said it’s a hairstyle that mothers give to mean little girls. And you think he’s giving you the eye?”

“Personally, I don’t think the rest of you give him enough credit. The whole idiot thing ... sometimes I really think it’s all just an act, and he’s a lot more brilliant than we could possibly imagine.”

Sasori only laughed harder at that, tears beginning to run from his eyes. “Shit ... thanks, Deidara; this is the best laugh I’ve had in weeks.”

Deidara pouted and folded his arms across his chest.

“Well, I hope you still find it funny when I spend the night in HIS bed, because now I’m definitely leaving you, you jerk.”

Sasori shifted his head so that he was looking up at Deidara, and his heart did that uneven skip it did every time he looked into those piercing blue eyes.

“What do I have to do, to earn your forgiveness?”

Smiling, Deidara told him, “Well, a massage might be a good start. My body has been carrying around a lot of tension, after all, worrying about you so much.”

Sasori got up and sat back on his bed, scooting until his back was against the wall. He patted the spot in front of him, in-between his opened legs.

“Come sit. I’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

Sasori slowly worked at Deidara’s neck, shoulders, and back, moving progressively lower. “You must have known I was coming home today, Huh?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that you’re wearing my favorite color on you,” Sasori said, gesturing to Deidara’s blue shirt, “And smelling like my favorite cologne?”

“Yeah, just a coincidence,” Deidara agreed, his head lolled back comfortably.

“Are you teasing me?”

“I don’t know, Master Sasori; do you FEEL teased?”

“And your hair,” Sasori continued, inhaling the flowery scent of Deidara’s silky blonde locks. “You’re absolutely intoxicating right now. I think I’m drunk off of you.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm hm. In fact I’m lightheaded and short of breath. Can you help me out, give me some mouth to mouth?”

Deidara tilted his head far back, and Sasori has just barely touched his lips, when out of no where, Sasori’s door burst open, startling them both.

It was Hidan, of course; the only one of the house who never bothered with knocking.

“Sorry to bother you both, but Sasori, I need back that book I loaned you last week. The one on Jahinism meditation techniques.”

Sasori got up and pawed through his bookshelf, before snagging the item in question.

“Here,” he said, handing it to him. “Thanks again.”

“Mm. You both have a good night,” he said, before leaving.

When the door shut behind him, Deidara let out a breath, and said, “What the hell was that?”

Sasori paused to lock his door, then sat back down behind Deidara. “What was what? Oh, don’t worry, I’m not planning on joining his religion. I was just bored and curious about —“

“Thats not what I meant! He just came in here, _saw us kissing_, but acted like it was nothing! Does he ... did you tell him about us?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then why —“

“I’m fairly certain that everybody already knows, De-De. But I think, for the most part, they choose to ignore it. OR they just don’t care.”

“But why?”

“Well, think about it, honey. There’s not a person in this organization that doesn’t have some deep-seated issue of their own. Do you really think that anyone has the energy, let alone the _time_, to focus on what may or may not be happening between us?”

“I guess I never truly thought about it.”

“Honestly, so long as we complete the missions assigned to us, that’s all Pain or anyone else really cares about.”

“I guess so ...”

“And you know, Pain and Konan are together. They even share a room. They make no effort to hide anything.”

“But Pain is the leader, so he’s free to do as he likes.”

“I don’t think that’s it at all. But, well, we’ll just have to mimick their behavior, then. They hug and kiss and hold hands but nothing they do is obscene, or even very obvious. They’re subtle. So subtle that whatever they do looks natural, so that no one even thinks to question it.”

“And you think that’ll work?”

Sasori nodded. “Yeah, I do. You know what else I think?”

“What?”

“I think that them being romantically involved makes them a better team than most. It causes them both to be more cautious, more meticulous, for fear of carelessness possibly hurting the other person. Think about it; Pain is strong and all, but I don’t necessarily think he’s the strongest one here. I’d wager that Itachi far surpasses his strength and ability. But Itachi is alone and, quite frankly, oftentimes it’s like he’s not even fully present, mentally. He’s become careless at times, and that in turn lowers his missions success rates. He feels he has nothing to really live for; success or failure means little to him, because in the end, all he thinks is that he’s serving himself, and, in his own mind, ‘himself’ doesn’t register as a viable motivation.”

“You’re very smart, Sasori,” Deidara murmured, kissing Sasori’s forehead. “But you’re not entirely right, you know. At least, not in the case of Itachi.”

“Really, now? How am I wrong?”

“There’s something you have yet to see about him, something that I’ve been noticing for the past few months. Your assessment that he feels he has no one to live for, is a bit outdated.”

Sasori raised an eyebrow, regarding Deidara’s face warily. “Eh? What do you mean?”

Deidara grabbed hold of Sasori’s face, pulling him forward into a soft kiss. “You’re cute when you’re confused,” he murmured, smoothing a lock of hair back from Sasori’s forehead. “You really don’t see it, huh? How Itachi’s been looking differently at one of our teammates?”

Sasori’s eyes temporarily widened, before his brow scrunched in confusion.

“Seriously??”

Deidara nodded. “Hm. Of course, you’d have already noticed this is you were more observant, like me,” he said, his tone turning slightly haughty as he continued, “But then again, you’re not an artist, so I can’t really blame you. We artistic types are always more aware of our surroundings than —“

Sasori grabbed one of the pillows and lightly smacked Deidara with it. “Okay, okay, Mr. Artist,” he said, sarcastically. “Geez, you’re such a brat. Just tell me who you’re talking about already!”

Deidara grinned. “So impatient. You really can’t guess?”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

Deidara crawled over Sasori, straddling his waist with his legs. He slowly took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor, then he pulled the band out of his ponytail and shook his head, so that all of his hair was tumbled wildly around his shoulders. Smiling evilly, he said,

“How about we play a game? If you can make me call out your name 3 separate times, I’ll tell you who it is.”

Sasori groaned lightly, while reaching out and taking hold of Deidara’s hips. “You can’t ever just make things easy for me, can you?”

Deidara shook his head. “Nope. I rather like making things hard for you. But right now ... “ he trailed off, leaning down to give Sasori a light kiss on the lips, before continuing, “There’s something I want _you_ to make hard for _me_.”

“Ugh, Deidara,” Sasori muttered, shifting so that he was halfway sitting up. “I absolutely loathe you, you know that?”

He yanked Deidara’s long hair back, and began kissing and sucking along the man’s neck, eliciting low moans from the blonde. “You said three times, correct?”, he asked, just before biting down, hard, on the sensitive spot just below Deidara’s right ear. Deidara’s whole body jumped and shuddered, as if electrocuted; but to his credit, he didn’t utter a word.

Sasori grinned. “Ah, so you’re going to make me work for it, eh?”

He flipped them over so that Deidara was beneath him, using his knee to nudge open Deidara’s legs. “That’s fine; let me show you why they call me _Master_ Sasori.”

— -

About an hour later found them laying beside each other, panting, each glistening with light sweat.

“Five times,” Deidara said softly, when he’d caught his breath. “Now I guess I really do have to tell you.”

Sasori smirked and reached over, taking Deidara’s hand and squeezing it gently. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Hard to say. You might have to build me some new legs to use the next few days, because as it is, I don’t think I can stand on mine anytime soon. They’re still shaking,” he said, teasing him.

Sasori rolled over so that he was on his side, putting both arms around Deidara and cuddling him close. “That won’t be necessary. How about you just stay here, in my bed, until you’ve recovered? I’ll bring you food, and drinks, and your art supplies; anything you want.”

“Wouldn’t you get sick of me, being here for so long?”

Sasori shook his head, before leaning over and kissing Deidara’s soft lips. “Never,” he murmured into his mouth, continuing to kiss him. “Never, ever, ever.”

“How do you think we’ll die?”

Sasori pulled back, slightly startled.

“Huh?”

“I was thinking about that while we were ... ya know ...”

“That’s incredibly morbid, don’t you think?”

“Not really. Did you know that in French, an orgasm is called _la petit morte_? It means ‘the little death’. So really I just died five times. So it got me thinking —“

“Geez, De-De,” Sasori interrupted, shaking his head. “You’re really strange sometimes. But ok, to answer your question, I’m fairly positive that you’ll go out with a bang, sweetheart.”

“That’d be great,” Deidara sighed happily. “I’d be my own ultimate work of art!”

“And what about me? How do you think I’d die?”

“Honestly, you’ll probably be the victim of a coup led by your own creepy puppets.”

“My puppets are not creepy.”

“Okay, fine. They’re beautiful, just like you,”

The two began to kiss again, until Sasori pulled away and said, “Okay, but seriously; who is Itachi focused on?”

“Kisame.”

“Wha —? Seriously??”

“Mm hm. I noticed it after they came back from the Hidden Leaf, when they went to look for the nine-tails.”

“That’s ... interesting. Very interesting. I can’t picture that in my head, the two of them together. It seems strange.”

Deidara turned to his side, laying his head on Sasori’s chest. “I thought that too, at first. But the longer you think about it, the more it makes sense. Those two are very similar. They’ve both experienced a world of pain before either were ready to properly handle it. I think, if they really decided to love each other, they could help each other get better. They — they could —“

Sasori looked down; Deidara had fallen asleep, breathing lightly on Sasori’s chest. Sasori moved his hand in order to stroke Deidara’s perfect hair, humming softly to himself.

“I’d like that, for Itachi and Kisame,” Sasori said after awhile, softly, barely aware that he was speaking out-loud. Deidara was so soundly asleep that he hadn’t woken up, and Sasori went on:

“Everybody deserves someone who can help you to heal, to help take the pain away.” He looked down at Deidara, his heart giving off an involuntary _ba-thump_ at the utter perfection of his sleeping beauty, before continuing,

“De, you helped me with that, and more. You gave me purpose, you gave my life light, and meaning, and **hope**. I don’t know what it is I did to ever deserve you, but I swear on everything sacred to me, no matter what happens, I will never let you go.”

Deidara stirred slightly, looking up at Sasori with sleep-heavy eyes. “Did you say something, Sori?”

Sasori smiled and shook his head. “Sorry; just talking to myself. You sleep now, okay?”

“Okay,” Deidara agreed, snugging down deeper into Sasori’s arms. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sasori replied, gently kissing the top of Deidara’s head. “Rest well; I’ll see you in the morning.”

Pretty soon the sweet sounds of Deidara’s breathing filled the room once more. Fairly quickly, Sasori joined him, in that calm paradise of slumber.


End file.
